“Slow down. Do what you’re told” said the physio. “Otherwise I will have no choice but to immobilise you.” These were his words last week after another appointment where I mostly confessed to having overdone it on the sprained foot. Again. He gets it. He really does, having three grown up monkeys of his own. I do try to listen but it’s my foot for crying out loud. Immobilisation might be the only answer. Maybe I need crutches and a full foot cast for a month. With little wheels on the bottom so I can still chase after monkeys. Or maybe I could just listen.
If you’re tired it will take longer
“Your eyes need time to recover” said the optician. “If you’re tired it will take longer.” This was the advice last week after a contact lens check. The hideous eye infection I had a few weeks ago was still causing me problems. I was waking in the morning and my eyes were failing to open. No gunk or sign of infection, so I was literally “what the funky funk is this nonsense?”
It certainly did not help during the gastroenteritis poop flood a couple of weeks ago. Middle Monkeys’ midnight pyjama poo explosion, trailed all over the bathroom, was made more traumatic after I had to drag myself from the bedroom half blind to tend to his anguished cries. The smell hit me before I even managed to scrape my eyes open.
It turns out that, due to the severe nature of said eye infection, the oily layer of my tears was washed away. This layer is the thing that helps the lid of the eye move easily over the ball and helps keep the moisture in. It takes time for the eye to start reproducing this layer of tears. Treatment includes applying warm compresses to the eyes (oh lovely) and resting. More resting. If you are tired all the time it takes longer. Of course it does.
“Just” a working mother of three!?!
At the time of the hideous eye infection, I went to see the Doctor about a number of ailments and issues. I had reached breaking point. After ticking them all off, the doctor looked me in the eye and said “is there something else?” “Yes” I said “I’m exhausted! More than I ever have been.” After a short discussion about my being a working mother of three, she sent me for a blood test. Just to rule anything else out.
This week I got the results of my blood test. All clear. Nothing at all physically wrong with me apart from low blood pressure which I manage already. “So I’m just a working, mother of three then?” I said to the nurse passing on the news. She turned from her computer screen and regarded me over the upper rims of her glasses. “Just?” She questioned.
Now is the time
We talked about the need to look after myself, get sleep when I can, my hormone changes after stopping to breastfeed. All good advice. “So I just need to rest a bit more then?” I concluded as I was leaving. “Good luck with that” she quipped with what I sensed was a large dollop of sarcasm. That was the last day of my time off work alone. I maybe should have gone home and slept. Instead I went shopping.
The shopping was not good for my foot, my eyes, my exhaustion or my bank balance. My problem is that I am always “just” doing something. “I’ll just walk to the park today. Then I’ll rest later.” Well later doesn’t appear to be good enough. “Now” is the time.
I have no doubt I would have mowed the lawn
So did I listen? Well last Thursday, I had a day at home. So I did listen. In order to ensure I rested, I invited a conveyor belt of play dates to ensure that I stayed in the house. Had I been alone I have no doubt that I would have mowed the lawn.
The physio told me last week that I was one of the more difficult types of patient to treat. Firstly because my pain threshold is clearly very high and I just don’t do what I’m told. This week he was very pleased as a couple of days avoiding too much on the foot did produce some improvement. I asked him if I would be good for a Duathlon in June. He looked at me in disbelief then said “only if you’re only going to ride the bike. No running.”
The plan going forward is keep moving but finding ways of doing stuff without using my foot. More bike riding, home based play dates with cups of coffee. So tonight I had a bath. That definitely counts. Top might have snuck in and had a poo whilst it was running, but it definitely counts as rest.